The roads in Salvador are terrible.
Anyone who's been to Latin America knows that the bumpiness is usual; silicone can be jostled into a cushion for your butt.
Even at the international airport in the suburbs, everything is paved with yellow mud, and every tire run brings up several pounds of mud.
But it's still better than the airports in India.
Indians generally have poor manners; it's not uncommon to see them relieving themselves in public. Back when I was doing my business in the bushes in India, an old Indian guy almost gave me a lightning five-hit combo with his bird.
The night of December 9th.
On the muddy roads in the suburbs, there are no streetlights, and you can't even see your hand in front of you.
The moonlight was blocked by thick fog.
But you could vaguely hear the sound of engines.
A convoy appeared and disappeared now and then.
